Shattered
by Regatto
Summary: Yuuta finally wakes up from his coma, but Fuji has an unpleasant shock. [TezukaFuji, ?Yuuta] R&R Onegaishimasu!
1. Guilt

Disclaimer: None of the characters in Prince of Tennis belong to me!  
  
Remarks: My first ever fanfic! Please be kind and give me reviews and criticisms!  
  
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The room was dark, illuminated only by the flashes of lightning from the raging storm outside the window. A solitary figure sat huddled in the corner, body quivering like a hurt animal. "How odd. I still have tears left." thought Fuji Syusuke as the tears flowed unabated from his burning eyes. He did not know how long he had been crying; he had lost his sense of time completely. But the pain in his heart would not stop. It kept piercing him, tormenting him endlessly, relentlessly. "Yuuta." he murmured softly, then he started to laugh almost hysterically. His parched lips cracked as he repeated his brother's name like a mantra, "Yuuta...Yuuta..." Fuji clenched his fists tightly, the nails cutting into his flesh as his body shook. "It's all my fault. I brought this upon you."  
  
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Flashback, two nights ago...  
  
"Damn you! Why did you have to show up here?" Yuuta said angrily as he stared at his elder brother. "Isn't it enough that I am known as Fuji's Syusuke's younger brother? Now you have to show everyone here how much better you are at tennis? Why must you come to St Rudolph? Just get out of my life!"  
  
"Yuuta," Fuji said softly, " you wanted a game. It wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't play seriously." He reached out to touch his younger brother's shoulder, but Yuuta flinched and shoved his hand away roughly. Undeterred, Fuji continued: "You have improved since your game with Echizen. Your strokes are deeper and more powerful, and your stamina has increased as well! You are a very good player, Yuuta..."  
  
"Ah, but not as good as the tennis tensai unfortunately! Which is why Yuuta got trounced by his beloved brother, and after he had practiced so hard too!" remarked a sly voice loudly. Fuji felt his body stiffened with anger. Mizuki, he thought coldly. The bastard was always trying to stir up trouble between him and his younger brother. Not deigning to respond to the provocation, Fuji turned to Yuuta once more. "You haven't gone home for some time now, and everyone misses you. Nee-san prepared your favourite dessert! Why don't you come home tonight?"  
  
But Mizuki's remarks had opened Pandora's box: the crowd at St Rudolph started murmuring. " No wonder his brother is known as tensai! Did you see his 'Swallow Return'? He didn't even use his three counter-strikes, and Yuuta was defeated!" Someone added snidely, " That's why Yuuta's known as the left-hand killer! He will never win against his right-handed brother!"  
  
"Yuuta..." said Fuji imploringly as he stared at his beloved younger brother. But Yuuta neither heard nor saw the worry and pain in his brother. His ears were filled with the incessant murmurings of the crowd, his vision burned red-hot at the pitying glances directed at him. The heat of shame and anger rushed through his veins, and his face darkened with fury.  
  
Grabbing Fuji's collar, Yuuta said through clenched teeth: "DON'T EVER COME AND LOOK FOR ME AGAIN. I want NOTHING to do with you." With a violent jerk of his hand, Yuuta flung Fuji onto the floor. Without a backward glance, he ran out of the tennis court.  
  
Fuji stood up slowly. Brushing the dirt of his back, he calmly picked up Yuuta's abandoned racket and slid it back into the worn cover. As he bent to pick up his own racket from the ground, he backed into someone. "Gomen.."he started, but stopped as he was greeted by the smirking face of Mizuki.  
  
"Eh, Fuji-kun, you always make Yuuta suffer don't you? You really..." Mizuki's taunting words ended abruptly as Fuji's fist smashed into his face. With clinical precision, Fuji pressed his finger onto Mizuki's throat, stopping the passage of air. Watching the struggling boy, he said coldly, "If you ever try to hurt my brother again, I will make you wish that you have never been borne. Do you understand me?" Mizuki jerked frantically in consent. Finally Fuji released the pressure, and Mizuki collapsed onto the ground, gasping frantically for air.  
  
"Yare, yare. Nee-san would be disappointed." murmured Fuji softly, the smile back on his face as he walked slowly through the crowd of St Rudolph students. Suddenly a girl ran into his path, clutching his hands. Fuji lifted his eyes in surprise as he stared at the white-faced girl.  
  
"Fuji-san! There's been an accident! Yuuta was running blindly across the intersection, and a car hit him! We've called the ambulance, and ..." But Fuji had already started running. Yuuta! He screamed silently as he pounded down the stairs and across the road. Shoving aside the onlookers, Fuji sank onto his knees as he cradled his unconscious brother.  
  
"Yuuta, everything's fine now. Aniki's here. I will not let anything hurt you." But even as he repeated the comforting words, Fuji felt the chilling grip of fear around his heart. Yuuta was bleeding too much, too fast. Rivulets of blood flowed from his head, his body, staining Fuji's shirt, soaking him with a thick, sticky warmth. "Yuuta, hang in there. Hang in there!"  
  
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Twelve hours later, in the hospital.  
  
"He's alive, and his condition is no longer life-threatening," began the doctor. Fuji's mother gasped in relief, and gave a sob of happiness as her husband's arm tightened around her, and Yumiko grinned as the tension seeped from her body. However Fuji was observing the doctor's face, and he saw the regret in the tired eyes. Choking with panic, he demanded: "What is it? What's wrong with Yuuta?"  
  
"He sustained a serious concussion and the flow of blood to his brain was disrupted. He's in a coma...I'm afraid he will never wake up from it. I'm sorry." Fuji's mother suddenly fainted and his father sobbed in despair; Yumiko turned into Fuji's arms and burst into anguished tears. Fuji stood frozen amid the cacophony of sounds, hearing only the doctor's words over and over again. "He will never wake up..."  
  
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Present  
  
Fuji uncurled slowly from his fetal position, his eyes were finally dry. He had no more tears, in fact, he no longer felt anything. He was like a desiccated husk: lifeless. Staggering, he grabbed hold of his tennis racket from the bed and walked to his desk. In a trance, he opened his drawer and took out a penknife. Lightning flashed, and the sharp blade of the knife gleamed. " Yuuta. It's all my fault. I will never play tennis again." Saying this, Fuji plunged his knife and slashed at the racket.  
  
Dropping the mangled racket onto the ground, Fuji turned and stared fixedly at his hands, "I will never play tennis again..."  
  
Yumiko stood uncertainly outside Fuji's room, her face tensed with worry. Since they had come back from the hospital, Fuji had shut himself in his room. The whole family was devastated and had wept openly, but Fuji had remained expressionless. She knew Fuji loved Yuuta the most in the family; she also knew that Fuji would blame himself for Yuuta's condition even though it had been an accident.  
  
"Syusuke keeps too much to himself, he will only break apart if this goes on. I have to help him..." Taking a deep breath, Yumiko knocked on Fuji's door. "Syusuke? I've brought you some soup! You haven't had anything for two days! This can't go on! Syusuke! Syusuke!" Hearing no reply, Yumiko opened the door.  
  
"I'm coming in! Why is your room so dark? Syusuke, really!" Turning on the lights, Yumiko turned to glare at her brother.  
  
Crash! The bowl slid from Yumiko's hands and shattered on the ground. "Syusuke!" She cried, "Oh my God, Syusuke! What did you do to your hand?!!"  
  
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	2. Foreboding

First of all, a big thanks for all my reviewers. (wipes tears of happiness and gratitude) Thank you for being so kind and encouraging to me! It means a great deal to me to have comments from fellow writers, or should I call you Senpais?! ^_^  
  
Disclaimers: None of the characters belong to me. Although I have a lovely Tezuka and Fuji wallpaper which I stare at constantly. Swoon.  
  
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Berlin, Germany 2.40 am  
  
"Fuji!" Tezuka woke up with a start, his heart pounding furiously, his ears ringing and his breaths coming in short, rapid pants. He was completely disoriented as he stared into the impenetrable darkness. Forcing the crisp night air into his lungs, it was a while before his mind finally cleared and his pulse gradually slowed to a normal rhythm. Chuckling nervously, Tezuka silently berated himself as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow with shaky hands. A nightmare. He had had a nightmare, that was all. Nothing but a figment of his hyperactive subconscious.  
  
Why then did it feel so real? Squeezing his eyes shut, Tezuka tried desperately to banish the images that plagued him. But they only came back to him, more vividly than before, in lush Technicolor and surround sound. Fuji. Crouched in a dim corner, whimpering and shaking like an animal. His face twisted in anguish as unbridled tears ran down his ashen cheeks. Suddenly Fuji cried out: a chilling sound, more bestial than human, reverberating in the desolate room. Without warning Fuji's eyes flew open, startling Tezuka with their preternatural clarity. An insidious dread gripped Tezuka's heart as he watched the light in Fuji's eyes suddenly go out like an extinguished flame. Then everything turned red, drenched in hues of scarlet, and burgundy....and blood.  
  
With an abrupt movement Tezuka swept his hand across the bedside table for his glasses, but in his haste his hand connected with an object and sent it crashing onto the floor. Damn it! Flicking on the light and putting on his glasses, Tezuka stared at the pile of shattered glass and porcelain, and small pool of water on the floor. The glass globe with a miniature Mount Fuji and ridiculous fake floating snow flakes that Fuji had given him as a present before he left for Germany!  
  
"Neh Tezuka, this is for you." The tensai had smiled warmly as he handed the fragile glass globe to Tezuka. " So that you will think of Japan when you are in Germany," Fuji opened his eyes and smiled even wider, letting the warmth suffused his limpid blue eyes as he murmured softly, "and so that you will think of me as well."  
  
His sense of foreboding coalescing into fear, Tezuka glanced quickly at his clock before he started dialing Fuji's cell phone number. "It's 3 am here, so it's 10 am in Tokyo. Fuji is definitely awake..." mumbled Tezuka. But no one answered. Without waiting to be transferred to Fuji's voicemail, Tezuka dialed Fuji's home number instead. However there was no answer again.  
  
After 20 minutes of dialing, Tezuka finally stopped and said to himself in mild disgust, " I am a baka! Fuji's in class right now, of course his phone is going to be switched off! It's a weekday, no one is at home right now since they are at work or in school. I will just wait and call later, and then both of us can laugh at how paranoid I am behaving."  
  
But as Tezuka bent down to pick up the pieces of the ruined glass globe, he wondered why he was not reassured by his own words.  
  
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Present: A hospital in Tokyo, 11 am  
  
"Yumiko-san!" At the sound of her name, Yumiko wearily lifted her swollen eyes to see Eiji and Oishi. A banal thought came to her mind: it's so strange how anxiety and worry can transform their faces, making them look like...strangers. She stood up suddenly but almost tipped over as a wave of dizziness swept over her; only the quick and firm grips of the two boys prevented her from collapsing onto the hospital floor like a broken marionette. Eiji quickly ran and brought a cup of sweetened tea for Yumiko. After a few grateful sips, some color finally returned to her face.  
  
"Yumiko-san, daijoubu?" Seeing her nod of affirmation, Eiji burst out: "How is Fuji? You told us about Yuuta over the phone, and that Fuji has hurt himself. We rushed over here immediately! What...what did he do and how bad is it?"  
  
"Syusuke..." Yumiko's trembling hand covered her mouth for a brief moment and then lowered as she continued, " he maimed his own hand."  
  
Flashback 8 hours ago: Fuji Residence...  
  
"Oh my God, Syusuke! What did you do to your hand?" Yumiko cried as she sank to her knees in front of her silent brother.  
  
Blood. There was so much blood. On the carpet, on the mangled racket, on Fuji. His left hand still clasped a penknife while his right hand was... beyond recognition. At the periphery of her vision, Yumiko could discern ribbons of torn flesh and the startling white of broken bones. "Syusuke..." sobs wrecked her body as she tried to cradle her brother's once elegant hands. " Why did you do this to yourself? You must be in so much pain!"  
  
"Nee-san," at the sound of Fuji's voice, Yumiko looked up and felt ice course through her veins. Fuji was grinning. " I am alright. I don't feel anything. Nothing hurts anymore."  
  
Present  
  
"The muscles and nerves of right hand were almost completely severed, and he broke the bones of his hand as well. The doctors spent almost 4 hours trying to connect them back and set the bones." Eiji and Oishi stood in shocked silence, their hands tightly clasped together for support as Yumiko rasped brokenly, " The doctors are hopeful that his right hand is still functional. But given the amount of damage, he can never play tennis again."  
  
Oishi bit on his lips as a wave of painful emotions swept over him, threatening to overwhelm all his senses; Eiji, his eyes overflowing with hot tears, buried his face on Oishi's shoulders as he muttered, " Baka! It was not his fault! Why did he hurt himself like this? Nya, Oishi! How could he? Baka..."  
  
" Eiji-kun! Oishi-kun!" Violently grabbing their hands, Yumiko shook Eiji and Oishi out of their paralysis, " Please do something, I beg of you! Something's wrong with Syusuke. He's too calm, too cheerful! As if nothing has happen! Please! I am so scared! My parents are near breakdown, and I have no one else to turn to. Please help my younger brother!"  
  
Eiji and Oishi both nodded. " Fuji is awake now right? We'll go to his room now and talk to him."  
  
An hour later...  
  
"Nya, Oishi! Something is really wrong with Fuji! He was smiling and talking about school and everything. You would think he's ok...but his eyes." Eiji stared worriedly at his doubles partner, and Oishi nodded tensely.  
  
Fuji's blue eyes had flickered open briefly during their visit, and what Oishi saw scared him. Because there was nothing in Fuji's eyes. It was like staring into the eyes of a Shikigami, opaque, lifeless...dead.  
  
" I'm going to call Tezuka."  
  
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Berlin, Germany 5.25 am  
  
Tezuka's troubled reverie was broken by the melodic ringing of his cell phone. Who is calling him so early in the morning? Did something really happen in Tokyo? His heart beating in rapid staccato, Tezuka gingerly picked up the phone.  
  
"Tezuka." He said shortly. It was a call from Oishi.  
  
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Please RxR. I may have been a bit too heavy-handed, so the story may seem a bit draggy and maudlin. Gomen! I have a rough idea how I want to end the story in about 2 or 3 more chapters, but I would appreciate any feedbacks or inputs. Once again, thank you! 


	3. Torment

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me! They belong to Konomi- Sensei.  
  
Notes: Comments and words of gratitude are at the end of the story. A big THANK YOU to all my very kind reviewers. Without further ado, let's go!  
  
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He was sitting under a Sakura tree, staring into space. The sun was setting, the sky awash with a multitude of colors: depthless lapis lazuli blue, cool pinks and magenta, and rich, glowing amber. Yet, the soft fading light could not disguise the gauntness of his face. He had always been slim, but now the jut of his bones could clearly be discerned, even under the concealing folds of his powder blue sweater.  
  
As a gentle breeze blew, myriad Sakura blossoms swirled and danced in the air. The delicate petals teasingly caressed the planes of his face as they fluttered down, covering the ground like a blanket of fresh snow. He reached out his hand and gazed at the gathering blossoms; almost dispassionately, he noted the contrast between the beauty of the pristine white petals and the harshness of the angry scars that crisscrossed his palm.  
  
"Fuji." Startled, Fuji Syusuke jerked his head up and peered searchingly through the swirling curtain of white. For a moment, he could only perceive a shadowy outline, moving slowly, but inexorably towards him. Then his vision cleared as the familiar figure stood directly in front of him.  
  
Tezuka. His hair was wind-tousled, but like always, his face was a stoic mask and his eyes revealed nothing. "Fuji, I have been looking everywhere for you."  
  
Shutting his eyes abruptly, Fuji smiled. " Really? I have been sitting here all this time. Neh, Tezuka. Aren't these Sakura blossoms beautiful? They look so much like snow." Running his fingers through the drifting petals, Fuji's smile widened. " But they feel cool and velvety, just like Spring."  
  
"How's your right hand, Fuji?" Tezuka asked, his face expressionless and his voice betraying only a mild curiosity.  
  
"The physiotherapy sessions have been going well. I can clutch a rubber ball and flex my fingers slightly. I have also regained some sensations. The doctors feel that I should be able to try writing again in a few more weeks." Fuji chuckled. " I swear the doctors are more concerned than I am. I am already writing quite well with my left hand! In fact my writing is better than Eiji's, although he vehemently denies it."  
  
"Eiji writes like an eight year old." Tezuka commented neutrally. "Fuji, are you free right now?"  
  
Fuji's smile wavered almost imperceptibly as he leaned against the trunk of the tree." Why?"  
  
"I am flying back to Germany tomorrow. There's a place I want to visit before I leave. If you are free, I would like you to accompany me."  
  
Fuji was silent. After what seemed like an interminable wait, he finally nodded and grinned. "Of course, I'll be delighted to."  
  
"Let's go then." Tezuka turned and started walking.  
  
"Wait a second! Neh Tezuka, you are always in such a rush!"  
  
As Fuji's footsteps sounded behind him, Tezuka finally let out a breath that he did not know he had been holding.  
  
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The street lights flickered on as the last vestige of the sun's rays dissipated into the evening air.  
  
As they strolled along the sidewalk, Fuji was smiling and talking gaily about innocuous things, gesturing and waving his hands to punctuate his words. All Tezuka saw was Fuji's right hand. The swelling had finally subsided; the dark, stormy splotches of bruising that had seemed so incongruous on Fuji's pale skin had all but disappeared, leaving behind the faintest stain of ochre. But the scars were there, starkly illuminated by the harsh florescent lights: long, raised and puckered, running and slashing across his hand from palm to fingers like a demented engineer's monstrous network of railways.  
  
Three and a half months. It had taken three and a half months for Fuji's hand to be functional again. Fourteen weeks. Ninety-eight days. That was how long Tezuka had been back in Tokyo and how long he had watched helplessly as Fuji suffered.  
  
Faced with the crushing weight of his guilt and pain, Fuji had eschewed the concern and care of his family and friends. Instead, he had chosen to isolate and barricade part of himself under layers and layers of carefully constructed emotional walls. The other part of Fuji was presented to the rest of the world: the happy, perpetually smiling boy, unfettered and untouched by the tragic occurrences.  
  
Despite his failed attempts to get past Fuji's smiling mask, Tezuka had not given up. He had accompanied Fuji on several occasions to visit the unconscious Yuuta, watching in silence as Fuji cradled his brother's hand and chattered animatedly about their childhood, about the weather, about the latest pop band - about everything. Except tennis. All of Fuji's conversations had been devoid of the topic; it was as if tennis had never existed in Fuji Syusuke's life.  
  
Along with Kawamura, Tezuka had visited Fuji's house as well. Again, all traces of tennis in Fuji's room had completely vanished. The cherished childhood photographs of a grinning Fuji with his favorite racket nestled in his arms, the numerous trophies won in countless tournaments, his tennis jersey and even his grip tape were all gone. Tennis had shaped Fuji's life. Without it, there was only a terrible void. Left with bare walls and empty shelves, the room was barren and sterile.  
  
Kawamura had looked at him, his earnest face troubled. "Ano, Tezuka. Do you think Fuji is alright? All of us have been so worried, and have tried to talk to him so many times. With Yuuta-kun's situation and his injury, he has to be in pain...but, but he seems so cheerful! He visited me at the sushi shop a couple of days ago and even asked for Wasabi sushi. He has always concealed his true emotions from us, but this time I feel as if I am talking to a stranger!" Flustered and face turning red, Kawamura scratched his head and continued emphatically, "I mean, it's like I am seeing Fuji's face and smile and hearing his voice, but it's not him! Tezuka, that can't be good for him, hiding all his feelings this way."  
  
Tezuka had kept silent because he did not want to tell Kawamura the truth: no, it was not good for Fuji. In fact, it was akin to a slow suicide.  
  
Fuji had not allowed his heart to stop bleeding. Even as the gaping wound festered, Fuji was desperately shoring up walls and fighting two debilitating wars: a war to suppress his guilt and pain, and a war to present a happy facade to the outside world. But he was losing badly. As his smile grew broader and his eyes glassier, his flesh was melting away from his slim frame.  
  
The falling Sakura blossoms that had looked like so much like snow to Fuji, had instead looked like tears to Tezuka. It was as if the trees knew that Fuji was weeping inside his sepulchral fortress, and were shedding their tears on his behalf. Half-shrouded in the growing darkness as he sat motionlessly under the tree, Fuji had never seemed farther away from Tezuka's reach.  
  
Was it only nine months ago when they had stood under the same tree and Fuji had given him his farewell present? Tezuka remembered the cool shade of the tree as it shielded them from the heat of the summer sun, casting dappled shadows on the resilient grass. He remembered the excited shouts of running children and the murmurings of their laughing parents. More than anything else, he remembered Fuji's azure blue eyes, twinkling and dancing with light; Fuji's cheeks tinged with the lightest flush and the easy, relaxed quirk of his lips...  
  
A sudden chuckle from Fuji jerked Tezuka back to the present. "Neh Tezuka, don't you find it amusing? I know I laughed my head off when I heard about it."  
  
For a moment, Tezuka's brain vehemently refused to reconcile Fuji with the person walking beside him. This was not Fuji! This was a stranger: a haggard, gaunt person with hollowed cheeks and dark shadows circling his eyes. He looked alien, almost macabre as his mouth distorted into a caricature of a smile. But Tezuka's heart knew what his brain denied.  
  
Something twisted viciously inside Tezuka. He wanted to shake Fuji violently and shout at him: "Why are you doing this? Why do you wear this painful mask even in front of me? I know you are suffering!" A roiling mass of anger, pain, bitterness and yearning slammed into him as he screamed inside his head. "Don't you trust me? Fuji Syusuke! Don't you trust me at all?"  
  
The wave of anguish that assailed his senses was so overwhelmingly acute that Tezuka was suddenly incapacitated. It was only through the sheer force of his will that he did not crumple into half and gasp for his breath. However, he could not stop his steps from faltering as his knuckles turned white with his effort to conceal his emotions.  
  
"Neh, Tezuka. What's wrong? Daijoubu?" Fuji had noticed his lapse.  
  
"It was just a spasm in my leg. I am fine, Fuji." Tezuka face was inscrutable as he said calmly. "Let's move on. We are almost there."  
  
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Fuji came to an abrupt halt as they arrived in front of the sprawling sports complex. "Why are we visiting this place, Tezuka?"  
  
"They have indoor tennis courts." Holding Fuji's wrist in a vise-like grip, Tezuka stared implacably into Fuji's suddenly frightened eyes and bloodless, unsmiling face. "We are going to have a match."  
  
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Phew! I had mental blocks writing this chapter! As a result, the writing may seem either disjointed or meandering. *Sweat drops* Sorry readers! Please offer me any criticisms to help improve my writing. ^_^  
  
Now for the thank-you bouquets!  
  
Suke-san: Oh dear, was I too graphic? Gomen, gomen! It is necessary as a plot device-you will find out the rationale for his behavior in the next chapter. (LOL, shamelessly asking you to stick with this fic. I'll buy you cherry, kaisho and mint toothpaste in return.)  
  
glitter-baby111, Feichang, Jacqueline, tezuka eiri: Thank you for your very kind words. Your support has really encouraged me. I make an effort to keep Fuji, Tezuka and the everybody else in character-hopefully none of their reactions are too over the top. I am a dedicated believer of happy endings, so no worries. XD  
  
MaiSieuPhong0102, wadeva and hikaruchi: I never thought reviews would make me feel pressured! LOL. That's a healthy type of pressure I guess---you have really motivated me. Thank you for your reviews, I feel humbled by them. I hope you will not be disappointed with this chapter. (gives a deep bow) 


	4. Confrontation

Disclaimer: Yes, no one belongs to me. (Boo hoo!)

Notes: Comments and thank you bouquets at the end. 

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Fuji stood stunned. He stared at Tezuka speechlessly, eyes wide with disbelief as his brain struggled to process Tezuka's words. _A match? Tezuka wanted a tennis match with him?_ There was a strange clarion-like ringing in his ears; he felt lightheaded, as though all the blood had suddenly rushed from his head. _Tennis._ Even the mere thought of the word sent an involuntary shudder through his body. 

_I can't play tennis anymore!_ Thought Fuji frantically. For a moment, he contemplated flight. Then as the absurdity of what Tezuka had said struck him, he started laughing. Softly at first, then loudly, hysterically as his body shook with unsuppressed mirth. "Neh Tezuka, what a great joke! You almost got me there! I've always known that you have a sense of humor, albeit a laconic one. But, but this time you have truly surpassed yourself!" Beaming, Fuji breathlessly continued as he dabbed at his tearing eyes with unsteady fingers: "This is just priceless!"

Tezuka stood, detached from Fuji's laughter. Face unreadable, like a sphinx; eyes infinitely patient and intent , like a predator sizing up his prey before he made the fatal lunge. 

Gradually, cold realization filtered into Fuji's consciousness: _Tezuka__ is not laughing with me...he's serious! What he said was not a jest!_ The paroxysm of laughter that had seized Fuji seeped from his body; his limbs suddenly felt as if they were filled with lead and he became deathly still. Head bent, with locks of his silken fringe tumbling down to obscure his face and shadow his eyes, Fuji stared resolutely at the ground. "Neh Tezuka, I would really like my hand back." Receiving no response, Fuji requested pleasantly once again: "Tezuka, please let go of me." 

The grip on his wrist remained unloosened. _What is Tezuka trying to do? Why won't he let go of me? He can't...he can't think to force me to play tennis! I won't, damn it! _Fuji jerked his hand, trying to shake off Tezuka's hold, but Tezuka only responded by tightening his fingers. _I can't free myself! _Fuji's heart pounded with rising panic as he felt Tezuka's grip encircling him like a spider's web. 

_He manipulated me! _Bile rose in Fuji's stomach as he realized that he had fallen into Tezuka's trap. He began to struggle in earnest: swinging his arm and digging his fingernails into Tezuka's hand. But his attempts were futile. Panting heavily, Fuji silently admonished himself: _Why are you letting him provoke you, __Fuji__ Syusuke? Calm down! Otherwise, you'll only be doing exactly what he wants!_ _Calm down!_ Abruptly halting his struggles, Fuji lifted his face and smiled serenely at Tezuka. "Ano, this is enough, Tezuka. Just let go of me now."

"Not until we have a match, Fuji." Tezuka said calmly, ignoring the livid, crescent-shaped indentations that had been inflicted upon his flesh.

"I am sorry, Tezuka. I am just not interested in tennis! I have no wish to play at all." There was no inflection in Fuji's voice, and his eyes were emotionless. But twin spots of color stained his cheeks. _He is angry!_ Tezuka suddenly realized. The tensai's mask was starting to crack. 

"This is juvenile - you can't force me to play. So stop wasting your time and effort like this when it's your last night here, neh? " Fuji cajoled softly.

But Tezuka Kunimitsu was a relentless opponent: he had seen the fault lines in Fuji's mask. Allowing Fuji to build up his defenses again was not an option. Provocation, however cruel, was necessary. 

"Running away, Fuji? You don't want to play tennis because you are scared, not because you have lost interest in it." Gazing intently into Fuji's eyes, Tezuka continued, "It's time to confront your feelings, Fuji. Time to stop trying to escape from reality."

"Reality?" Raising his imprisoned right hand in front of their faces, Fuji grounded out the word through clenched teeth. "Look at my hand, Tezuka. The nerves and muscles of my hands were severed, and the bones broken. I can't even hold a pen to write, let alone grip a racket and play!" Eyes flashing, Fuji tersely continued. "Even if I want to play tennis, which I don't---you, of all people, should know how devastating an injury like this is! Any attempts to strain my hand will only exacerbate the injury. I can never play tennis again. Or will you only be satisfied if I am permanently crippled?"

Releasing Fuji's hand, Tezuka answered simply. "Play with your left hand, Fuji."

Incredulity swept over Fuji's gaunt features before he laughed. The sound harsh and biting, like a thousand sharp-edged leaves cutting into Tezuka's flesh: barely drawing blood, but stinging like wildfire. "Sorry to disappoint you, Tezuka-sama. Unlike you and Echizen, not everyone is a Nitoryuu. I can't, just with a snap of my fingers, switch to playing with my left hand when I am right-handed." 

Dipping his body into a low bow, a placid smile back on his face, Fuji said politely: "I really do not want to play tennis again, Tezuka. I am sorry that you went through all this trouble for naught. Have a safe trip back to Germany. Sayonara." Then he turned to walk away. 

"Physical challenges have never hampered your tennis before, Fuji! You have always reveled in overcoming your disadvantages. You will find a way to play with your left hand." Fuji continued walking. Watching Fuji's retreating back, Tezuka hurled his last weapon, shouting: "What about Yuuta?" As though impaled, Fuji froze in mid stride.

Bending down and pausing to unzip his racket bag, Tezuka spoke carefully, voice softer this time but just as clear as before. "You are no longer interested in tennis anymore, Fuji. But what about Yuuta? He has always been passionate about tennis. Even if he's in a coma now, I am sure he still loves tennis. But we don't know if he'll ever wake up." A small whimper escaped from Fuji.

Steeling his heart, Tezuka held up a racket and pointed it at Fuji. " Fuji Yuuta has been known as the left-hand killer, and I know he has always wanted to play a match against me. He can't play right now... He may never play again. Play against me, Fuji Syusuke. Play on your brother's behalf so that he will have no regrets."

Fuji turned around and flinched when he recognized the racket held in front of his face like a gauntlet. _Yuuta's__ racket! The racket that he had held during the match at St Rudolph where he had been defeated by __Fuji__. The one that he had thrown on the ground with fury before he ran across the street and a car..._Fuji stared blindly at the racket, a burning sensation prickling his eyes, his mind caught up in a whirl of turmoil and confusion. _I can't do this! I can't play tennis! I don't deserve to play, not when it's my fault that Yuuta got hurt! _Fuji thought in anguish._ His blood are on my hands!_

" For Yuuta." Tezuka said quietly, still holding up the racket. 

_Yuuta__. My young, impetuous brother. Fuji suddenly recalled the bitterness and anger on Yuuta's face as he shoved Fuji onto the ground. He remembered the numerous occasions where Yuuta loudly proclaimed to him, fists clenched and his face full of determination: _"Aniki! I will defeat you! I will defeat Tezuka! Then everyone will acknowledge me as __Fuji__ Yuuta, the left-hand killer instead of __Fuji__ Yuuta, __Fuji__ Syusuke's younger brother!" __

_"Play against me, __Fuji__ Syusuke. Play on your brother's behalf so that he will have no regrets. For Yuuta." _Tezuka's words reverberated in Fuji's ears.

Slowly, as if he was moving underwater, Fuji reached out to take the racket from Tezuka's outstretched hand. As his fingers grasped the cool metal, he gave a painful gasp. The metal felt like liquid fire: burning his fingers, sending acute streams of pain to the nerves of his palm, paralyzing his arm and engulfing his heart. Breathing heavily, Fuji tightened his grip on the racket, welcoming the agony brought forth by the contact. He would play tennis for one last time. Not for himself, but for Yuuta so that his wish would be fulfilled. _For you, Yuuta._ Fuji swore silently. _After this, I will never play tennis again._

"I accept the match Tezuka." The vacant smile was gone as Fuji's steady eyes stared unwaveringly at Tezuka.

For a moment, both stood unmoving as they considered each other cautiously. Then, for the second time that night, Tezuka said: "Let's go then."

It was time for battle. 

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Eto, I know there's supposed to be a match in this chapter! Instead you get a lot of talk, and not much action! *sweat drops* Gomen ne! But trying to get Fuji out of what I like to call "Hikaru denial-mode" took much longer that I expected. 

The next chapter will definitely feature the showdown between Fuji and Tezuka, and some action (finally!) between the both of them that *cough, cough* does not involve tennis. ^_^

Thank you bouquets:

Wadeva: Thank you for sticking with this story! Your support brings much joy to my heart. ^^ A big bouquet of flowers for you!

Suke-san: *wah! breaks into tears.* You are so kind to me! I was on Cloud 9 after reading your review! Sob, you have really made me very, very happy. Thank you so much for your unstinting support, and your lovely, lovely fan-fictions that keep me so entertained!

Hikaruchi: *Hugs!* Thank you! Xie-xie! Arigatou! for your warm review! I am very grateful for your support and encouragement. ^^ You have made me quite ecstatic! (dances around, swinging arms madly.) 

Ryoma-sama fan: Thank you so much for your very poetic review! I felt so happy after reading it. *Glomps!* Thank you! Thank you!

Tsubame Gaeshi (great name!!!), Yukuro, Angel72, and Simply_Kim: Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. Not much angst this chapter—but the next one will be definitely be high on the angst-o-meter. ^^ Thank you once again!

Magician of Black Chaos: Oh mighty one! (do not curse me or anything!) Thank you for your review. Eto, about Yuuta. Hmmm...I like him too! He's a cutie. But I don't know yet whether he'll actually wake up from his coma. *sweatdrops* ^^


	5. Part I: Showdown

Disclaimers: Yes, no one belongs to me.

A/N: To all my reviewers—thank you very, very much! I don't know how I can continue with this without your encouragement and support. Responding to comments that my previous chapter was short (I know you are joking btw ^^)... LOL, it was 20% longer than the previous chapters! 

This time, my chapter is sooooo long that I have to split it up into two parts, otherwise you'll go brain-dead. *sweatdrops. HELP! I have created a monster!* So here's Part I of Chapter 5. Non-tennis action is in Part II which I will post in a couple of days (WIP). Gomen ne! Please continue to support this story!

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"Unnya, Echizen! That was a mean twist serve! If I hadn't moved away, it would have hit my face! And after I bought you burgers too! Can't you show me some respect?" 

"Mada mada dane, Kikumaru-senpai." 

"I should be the one playing against Echizen. I don't understand why Kikumaru and Echizen are playing against each other now when they can play against each other in Seigaku all the time. Why are Momoshiro and Kamio so excited? They have beaten the Gyokurin pair before. Oh yes, it's because they are actually playing. Not like me, I am only watching. This is annoying..."

For a moment, Fuji and Tezuka stopped short as they surveyed the scene before them. Two of the three available courts were occupied:  a bouncing Kikumaru and a smirking Echizen were playing singles on the first court; on the third court, Momoshiro and Kamio gleefully alternated between hitting balls and hurling insults at the profusely sweating Gyokurin pair, Izumi and Fukawa. Shinji stood in one corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he stared moodily at the players; his mouth moved nonstop as he continued with his monologue. 

Instinctively, Fuji stood a step back. _Why are there so many people? Did Tezuka plan for this?_ As if hearing his unvoiced question, Tezuka replied calmly, " I didn't expect the courts to be occupied. They had been under renovation, and only reopened two days ago. And no, I didn't call Eiji and the gang to come here." Flicking a glance at Fuji from the corner of his eyes, Tezuka continued: "Are you going to back out, Fuji?" Fist tightening almost painfully around his racket, Fuji shook his head slowly. Tezuka nodded, his face betraying none of the satisfaction he felt. "Let's play then."

"Oi Gyokurin! Surely you can hit harder than that? Even Ann-chan can play better!" Momoshiro shouted as he returned the spinning tennis ball with a casual backhand. 

"Momoshiro! Who are you calling Ann-chan?! Don't you even think of getting fresh with her!" Outraged and momentarily distracted, Kamio loudly protested.

"Aww, loosen up Kamio!  I was ..." Momoshiro froze in mid-sentence as two familiar figures approached the courts.

"Momoshiro! Are you listening to me? Pay attention! Why aren't you getting the ball?" Kamio huffed as he stretched and swung his racket to cover for Momoshiro. "Momoshiro?" 

"Tezuka-buchou! Fuji-senpai!" Momoshiro's eyes were wide with disbelief and confusion. _What are they both doing here? __Fuji_'s carrying a racket! Are they going to play? But.. but ___Fuji__ can't possibly play anymore with his injury!  "What are you doing here?" _

All movements on the courts ceased as everyone stared speechlessly at Tezuka and Fuji. Save for the sound of Fuji's and Tezuka's steady footsteps, the place was completely silent. 

"Fuji and I are going to have a match." Tezuka was expressionless as he stared at the stunned faces. 

"Nya, Tezuka! Are you serious? Fuji, you can't ..." Kikumaru began and then abruptly stopped when he looked at Fuji. _He's not smiling._ Kikumaru realized with a start. _For the first time since Yuuta's accident, __Fuji__ is not smiling! Gazing into Fuji's unshuttered eyes, he saw determination reflected in their depths. Kikumaru's heart pounded as he turned and looked at Tezuka: mirrored in his eyes was the exact same determination. _

"Eiji, can you be the umpire? Echizen can have a game with Ibu Shinji instead. That is, if all of you do not mind." Tezuka requested politely.

"Betsuni." Echizen touched the tip of his cap and shrugged nonchalantly. "I will play with Shinji. It was getting tiresome with Kikumaru-senpai whining the whole time anyway..."

Too anxious to be offended, Kikumaru turned to Fuji. "Nya, is it all right with you, Fuji?"

A smile fleeted across Fuji's face as he gently replied: "Daijoubu, Eiji." Then he turned towards the center court.    

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"One set match. Tezuka to serve." 

Fuji stood, knees slightly bent, as he stared across the court at Tezuka. The unfamiliar weight and sensation of the tennis racket rested heavily in his left hand. _It feels so strange to stand on a court and hold a racket again! Has it only been slightly over three months since I have stopped playing? It feels like a lifetime ago. Unconsciously, Fuji flexed his tensed fingers. _I was so used to playing with my right hand that the racket had become a natural extension of my body. But this...this feels so alien. I am scared. _Fuji suddenly realized. _I don't know if I can actually play. How is Tezuka going to play? I have always liked to be in control. This uncertainty - it  frightens me.__

A ball suddenly whooshed passed, missing the side of his face by scant centimetres, the sheer force of its passage ruffling his hair.

"15-0!" 

Fuji's eyes narrowed. It was Tezuka's no-touch ace. _So that's how he's going to play. _Fuji's muscles tensed in anticipation as Tezuka arched his back and then swung his left arm in one fluid motion, sending the tennis ball flying across the court and singing in the air. _Tezuka's deadly serious. _With a quick movement, Fuji shifted his body and extended his racket to return the serve.

Plowmhhp! The racket flew and landed a few feet away from Fuji as the force of the spinning ball jarred the racket out of his hand.

"30-0!"

Fuji clenched his teeth as he bent to retrieve his racket. The ball had been very heavy, but the next time he would be prepared, he would not be caught off guard like this again. Across the court, Tezuka's face was an inscrutable mask: he threw the tennis ball up into the air and once again sent it careening towards Fuji. 

"Net! 40-0!" Fuji's return was unsuccessful.

"Game! Tezuka leads one game to love!" The game was over in less than one and half minutes. 

Action on the other courts came to a standstill as everyone gathered in silence to watch the match. Even Shinji had stopped mumbling. 

"First set, second service! Fuji to serve."

Fuji paused as he gazed intently at the tennis ball cradled in his right palm. Until then he had resisted any urge to touch the ball, but now his fingers, of their own volition, moved caressingly over the rough surface, feeling its prickly texture. The weight of the ball pressed heavily against his barely-healed palm. __

With a deep breath, Fuji tossed the ball into the air and swung his racket with a slicing movement.

"Fault!" The tennis ball hit the net. Fuji's eyes widened before he tossed another ball up again.

"Double fault! 0-15!" 

_Another net ball!_ _I can't even serve properly! The mechanics of my swing is just wrong! Everything feels so awkward! A sense of surrealism assaulted Fuji. __What am I thinking? I am not even left-handed, and here I am trying to play a match against Tezuka? Have I gone mad? _I shouldn't be playing here, I shouldn't be playing at all!__

Lowering his racket, Fuji strode towards the net. _I will end this debacle right here and now!_ "Tezuka! Let's..."

"Fuji, it's your serve." Tezuka remained motionless at his spot, his racket poised for a return. "Give me all that you've got, Fuji Syusuke." Then, he stared at Fuji and continued implacably. "Remember who you are playing for."

Yuuta's intense face flashed in Fuji's mind. "_Aniki! I will defeat you! I will defeat Tezuka!"_

_Yuuta. How could I have forgotten? I'm playing this game for him, not myself!  _Even from across the court, Fuji could feel the waves of concentration and determination emanating from Tezuka. _Tezuka is giving his all in this match! He's risking his left hand to play in an unofficial match! How can I behave like this? _

"Gomen ne, Tezuka." Fuji smiled at his opponent. "I'm going to play seriously now." _I don't want to let Yuuta down. I don't want to let you down either. Throwing the ball once more into the air, Fuji arched his feet and brought the full momentum of his body into his swing._

This time the ball flew over the net.

"Out! 0-30!" 

But Fuji was already starting on his next serve. _This time, I will get it down pat._  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~__

"15-40!"

Fuji was panting badly as he walked towards the net to retrieve the tennis ball. _Zero-shiki drop shot. He had anticipated Tezuka's move, but had not been able to neutralize it. Bending down to free the ball from under the folds of the net, Fuji could feel his sweat trickling down his wet forehead and running into his eyes. Swiping his throbbing hand across his brows, Fuji was filled with a certain dark amusement as he contemplated about his situation. _I've certainly lost all my stamina! Already I can feel my arm going numb, and my legs are going to give up on me soon._ He was also trailing Tezuka 3-0. _Soon I'm going to lose my service game, and then it will be 4-0.__

"Oi, oi, what is Tezuka-buchou doing?" Momoshiro murmured worriedly as he watched Fuji's rapidly weakening returns. "I can understand if he wants to make Fuji-senpai play tennis again. But the way he's playing is so relentless, he's really making Fuji-senpai run and struggle to get the ball. " He peered at Kikumaru, who was looking just as troubled as he chewed on his lips. Beside him, Echizen was watching the match intently.  

"Playing such a strenuous game with his left hand is straining his muscles, plus the actions do not come naturally to Fuji . On top of that he's not physically fit right now. That is a huge handicap, especially when you are playing against someone like Tezuka." Kamio said, a frown on his face as he stroke his chin. "Fuji never had a chance to get his rhythm going. And now his energy is just getting sapped. It's almost painful to watch the game."

"Game Tezuka! Tezuka leads 4-0." Announced Kikumaru as Fuji's returning shot went outside the white line by a yard. 

Fuji stared grimly ahead as Tezuka prepared to serve. 

"Fuji-senpai, mada mada dane." Remarked Echizen laconically; then he winced as his words earned him a sharp rap on his head from Momoshiro. "Itai!"

"Watch your words Echizen! He's not left-handed! Plus his physical condition and his size are working against him! You can't expect him to win in tennis like that!" Exclaimed Momoshiro agitatedly. Then realizing how loud his voice had been, Momoshiro blinked and covered his mouth in horror. 

"Che! Baka-senpai." Echizen rolled his eyes in disgust; Momoshiro ducked his head as Kamio, Izumi and Fukawa shook their heads at him, while Shinji mumbled something about big mouths.

Fuji jerked in shock as Momoshiro's words penetrated through his weary consciousness. _" His physical condition and his size are working against him! You can't expect him to win in tennis like that!" Déjà vu. _

End Part I

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*Cough* I am not a tennis player, so excuse me for any mistakes or lousy descriptions there!  As for Yuuta...we'll see what happens to him in Chapter 6 (absolute last chapter, no more dragging you through more of my excesses). ^^

Suke-san, Hikaruchi, Wadeva, Angel72, Kikumaru*starr and Kusanagiluv: Arigatou Gozaimasu!

Suke-chan and Hikaruchi: Hoi, hoi! Hope the length is more satisfactory this time? ^^ I don't know why the progress is so slow, the words just kept flowing out so the story gets longer and longer. Thank you so much for staying with this story. *bows to both of you*

Wadeva: ^^Thank you for your compliment. I'm waiting to read your fic too!

Angel72: You came back! Thank you! *glomps* LOL. Thanks to MsWord, I have less grammar mistakes. ^^Thank you for your reviews, it makes me feel warm and tingly.

Kikumaru*starr: Oro! What lousy fic? Your fics are very entertaining and funny! (I would like more though ^^Not so subtle hint.) Thank you for reading my story and giving me such kind support! _   _


	6. Part II: Shattered

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. I am just a devoted fan. ^^

A/N: This is a very long chapter! But I've really worked hard on it to do justice to the characters, and I hope that I've succeeded. Please be patient and stay with me till the end! And as promised, action between Tezuka and Fuji that does not involve tennis towards the end. ^^

Flashbacks are in italics.

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_"Neh, Syusuke, aren't you excited?" Yumiko smiled tenderly at the diminutive boy walking next to her. "Your fourth birthday is coming next week, so we'll going to go choose your present today!"_

_"Hontouni?" __Fuji__'s eyes widened with excitement. "Nee-san, can I really choose what I want?"_

_"Hontouni, Syusuke. Okaa-san gave me extra money." Yumiko chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I know someone would like a new badminton racket."   _

_Fuji__ bent his head as a blush spread over his cheeks. He did want a new badminton racket! He had been playing with Yumiko's old racket for the past few months, and although he did not mind the fact that it was not new, the racket was falling apart and the paint was peeling off. Badminton suited _Fuji___: he was light and quick-footed, and the game came naturally to him. He smiled happily. There was this silver racket that had caught his eye the last time when he had gone to the store with Yumiko..._

_Abruptly, __Fuji__ stopped walking. _

_"Syusuke? What's wrong?" Yumiko asked in surprise as her brother stood in front of a high metal fence, as though mesmerized._

_"Nee-san, what are they playing?" Fuji asked softly, his hands gripping the metal barrier tightly, as he stared at the courts._

_"Tennis. They are playing tennis, Syusuke." _

_"Tennis." Fuji lightly savored the word in his mouth, letting the taste linger on his tongue. _

_It was like magic. The players were running across the courts but in __Fuji__'s mind, they have slowed down to a hypnotic dance: their movements smooth, fluid and powerful as they extended their arms in graceful arcs. A seductive melody rang in __Fuji__'s ears as the rackets struck the balls and sent them ricocheting across the courts. The players with their determined faces, their grunts as they return a powerful shot and the ecstatic shouts when they won a crucial point. Everything about tennis was enthralling: it was like a siren's song, pulling and tugging at __Fuji__'s heart and soul like nothing else._

_That afternoon __Fuji__ bought a tennis racket instead.     _

~~~~~~~~

Gripping the tennis racket with both his hands and ignoring the needle-like stabs of pain in his right palm, Fuji forced the tennis ball back across the court. He would not allow the long volleys to end just yet. 

_~~~~~~~~_

_He knelt on the ground, painfully sucking in deep breaths of air, finally loosening the grip on his tennis racket. His muscles were burning, his elbows and knees bruised and scraped; his face and limbs were covered with sweat and dust._

_"__Fuji__ Syusuke! Forget about tennis already! You just can't play!" Satoshi sneered as he looked at the small figure kneeling on the ground. "You're a decent badminton player, I'll give you that! But tennis? You're pathetic."_

_"Neh Satoshi, that's kind of cruel isn't it?" remarked Koji, a sarcastic grin on his face. "He has been trying very hard you know. You can't blame him for not being able to play properly even after three months of lessons and practices." _

_"I'm might as well be playing against my dog if I can win this easily! At least the ball will return!" Satoshi exclaimed loudly before he maliciously threw a ball at __Fuji__'s face. "Go away __Fuji__ Syusuke. You're too tiny and weak for tennis, everything works against you!" Thumping his chest pompously, Satoshi continued. "Let me give you a piece of advice: forget about tennis, because you'll never win a game!"    _

_Ignoring the tears that were silently running down __Fuji_'s face, the two boys laughed loudly and sauntered off, swinging their rackets jauntily.__

_Their cruel laughter and words echoed in __Fuji_'s ears. You're too tiny and weak for tennis, everything works against you! Forget about tennis! You'll never win a game! __

_"Daijoubu?" At the sound of a new voice, __Fuji_ looked up. It was a stern, unsmiling boy about his age, with a pair of glasses perched on his nose. __

_Not trusting himself to speak, __Fuji__ nodded mutely and hug his tennis racket tightly for comfort._

_"Why do you play tennis?" Looking at the tear-filled blue eyes, the boy asked curiously. "I mean it can't be fun falling down and getting injuries. I have seen you play several times." At these words, __Fuji_'s head bowed in shame and embarrassment, but the boy continued. "You were really struggling and your movements were awkward. Why do you continue to play tennis, even after all the insults and the bruises?" __

_"Because I love it." At first, the voice was soft and muffled, but then it grew stronger as __Fuji__ stared at the boy through a haze of tears. "I love tennis. It touches me here." __Fuji__ said with conviction as he placed his scraped hand on the left side of his chest. "I don't care if I fall down, I don't care if I get injured, I don't care if I never win a game. As long as I play tennis, I feel alive." Saying this, __Fuji__ thrust his chin up defiantly, as if daring the boy to mock him._

_Instead the boy stretched out his hand. Confused, __Fuji_ lay his hand on the boy's and felt himself been pulled up. They stood staring at each other for a long while before the boy asked solemnly. "What is your name?"__

_"Syusuke. __Fuji__ Syusuke." Answered __Fuji__ tentatively._

_"__Fuji__ Syusuke." The boy said slowly, then he took a surprised _Fuji___'s hand into his own. "Never stop playing tennis, _Fuji___. Tennis is about physical strength, which the two boys earlier had." His grip tightened as he continued. "But tennis is about the mind as well. What you lack in physical strength, you can compensate by using your brains. But most importantly, tennis is about heart and will, and you have that in abundance. Mental strength and courage will bring you much further than they ever will go.  And because you love tennis, you will readily embrace setbacks and defeats: as painful and agonizing as they may be, they will help you grow. Become strong, __Fuji__."    _

_Saying this, the boy released __Fuji__'s hand and turned to walk away._

_"Wait!" Feeling a strange sense of loss, __Fuji_ shouted. "Thank...thank you, but I didn't get your name." __

_The boy half turned, his glasses glinted in the afternoon sun. "My name's Tezuka. Tezuka Kunimitsu. One day, we'll play, __Fuji_ Syusuke."__

~~~~~~~~

As the ball flew across the net, Tezuka moved towards his right to return the ball. Fuji allowed his mouth to quirk with satisfaction: the ball had not gone into Tezuka-zone this time. 

~~~~~~~~

_Fuji__ trained hard to increase his strength and stamina in order to improve his game. But more than that, he tapped into, honed and wielded his very considerable mental faculties. He learnt that under pressure, he could calmly disassociate himself from the furor of the battle. He would then uncover his opponent's weaknesses, dissect them, formulate strategies and then attack them methodically. __Fuji__ knew that his tennis would never be characterized by force and power: his body was not built for that. Instead he set upon developing techniques that utilized his built and speed, and more importantly, wrecked havoc on the opponent's psychology. After all, tennis was a mind game: the purpose of each shot was just as important as the delivery -  knowing when to provoke and agitate, when to pull back and defend, and when to deliver that devastating finishing shot that would crush the opponent's confidence, jumbled up his mind and kill his fighting spirit._

_He defeated Satoshi and Koji in their next games. By the time both matches ended, the two boys were shell-shocked and white-faced. _

_As __Fuji__ played and played, his tennis racket became an extension of his body and mind, and his game became lethal. Opponents came and challenged him, but they toppled like dominoes. The smiling boy, who looked so fragile and innocuous, was a dangerous opponent. Only fools underestimated him, and even strong players learnt to fear his unorthodox techniques and skills. _

_By the time he was six, he had gained the reputation of being a prodigy. The title of tennis tensai became synonymous with the name of __Fuji__ Syusuke._

~~~~~~~~~

"Deuce!"

"Did you just see that? I can't believe it! Higuma Otoshi. Fuji-sempai won the point with his Higuma Otoshi!" Momoshiro shouted.     

"Nya! Fuji! With your left hand! Hoi! Hoi!" Kikumaru could no longer suppress his excitement.

~~~~~~~~~

_He met the Tezuka again when he went to Seigaku. The latter had grown taller, but he still wore a pair of glasses and if possible, his face had become even more austere. Although they encountered each other on the school grounds, they never acknowledged each other. __Fuji_ wondered if Tezuka Kunimitsu had forgotten about him. Tezuka had joined the Seigaku tennis club, while ___Fuji_ had opted to join photography club instead.__

_One afternoon, __Fuji__ had just finished playing a casual game of street tennis when Tezuka appeared before him. _

_"Shall we play, __Fuji__?" Tezuka asked, as if all the intervening years had never passed between them._

_"Of course, Tezuka." Picking up his racket, __Fuji_ grinned. "I've become strong."__

_Fuji__ lost the match. But he was not surprised. Tezuka's physical strength and flawless techniques were awe-inspiring no doubt, but coupled with his steely mental strength and nerves, Tezuka was the perfect all-rounder. And _Fuji___ knew, beneath that icy exterior, the core of Tezuka burnt with passion for tennis. _

_"You should join the tennis club, __Fuji__." Tezuka remarked afterwards, as they sat on the bench, guzzling their water._

_"Hmmm. Why? I don't have to join the club to play tennis. Besides, I am having fun with photography." __Fuji__ tilted his head as he gazed at Tezuka's profile._

_"You haven't been playing all out until this game, __Fuji_. Join the club. Play alongside with me. We'll go to the Nationals." Tezuka stared back at __Fuji___._

_Fuji__ smiled warmly. "Neh Tezuka, when you ask, it's hard to refuse."_

~~~~~~~~

"15-0!" Echizen had taken over the role of umpire since Kikumaru was getting too rowdy and enthusiastic.

"What, what was that?" The Gyokurin pair gaped in shock.

"Disappearing Serve!" Shouted Momoshiro and Kikumaru in unison, waving their hands above their heads wildly.

~~~~~~~~~

_Many people had said that __Fuji__ Syusuke was somewhat of a half-hearted player, that he seldom played his best. His team- mates had teased him for being lazy, and _Fuji___'s reply was an innocent smile. He never tried to refute anyone or defend himself from the good-natured verbal jabs. He encouraged the misperception, for it hid the truth: that he did not like to hurt people. He had once been badly humiliated and suffered, and had it not been for Tezuka, he did not know if he would have picked himself up. _

_He could usually judge the strength of his opponent within the first few minutes of the game, and he would rein in his strength so that the game would be won with a comfortable margin, but not so that his opponent was dealt with a crushing loss. He had no wish to have his opponents broken and their dignity taken from them. _

_That is, unless if he were to be fighting for someone else. Things would be a little different then. During the match with Akutagawa Jiroh, he had played at full strength because of Kawamura and Yuuta. But even then, he had not been vicious. For an unprincipled and unscrupulous opponent like Mizuki Hajime, however, he had no qualms about toying with him and then destroying him on court. Mizuki Hajime was not a worthy tennis player. A person who would compromise everything to win a game did not love tennis. To __Fuji_, a good game of tennis was a sheer joy in itself , he did not need an absolute win to validate himself. __

~~~~~~~~~~

"30-40!" Fuji gave a mental wince. He had not gotten the swing in his left hand properly yet, and his attempt at Tsubame Gaeshi had landed against the net instead. He would just have to try again. 

~~~~~~~~~~

_Fuji sat on the swing, swaying slightly as he stared at nothing in particular. He did not want to stay in the house, it felt empty with Yuuta gone. Yuuta had been so adamant about going to St. Rudolph that Fuji hadn't been able to do anything except to watch his brother leave, a truculent expression still on his face. Pressing his slender fingers against his temples, __Fuji__ tried to ignore the dull ache in his heart and tried to clear his mind of doubts and self-recriminations._

_"Did Yuuta leave?" __Fuji__ nodded. As usual, Tezuka had known instinctively where to look for him. Settling himself on a adjacent swing, Tezuka kept silent, offering _Fuji___ his quiet company._

_"I precipitated his departure you know? He couldn't stand living in my shadow anymore. He left immediately after he lost a game to me again today." __Fuji__'s eyes were dark and somber._

_"It pains you." Tezuka said softly._

_"Yes." __Fuji__ admitted. That was no point lying to Tezuka. "But I have no other choice. Yuuta loves tennis as well. But he has to learn to accept that defeats are sometimes inevitable and that challenges would have to be conquered, be it mental or physical.  If he's only playing tennis to beat me, to try to get out of my shadow, he'll never really get stronger and realize his full potential. He'll only be limiting himself."_

_"One day, Yuuta will realize that he's lucky to have a brother like you." Tezuka was stoic and matter of fact._

_"I'm the lucky one. I have you." __Fuji__'s eyes twinkled as he smiled. Then his voice grew serious again. "I will have to be patient and try to guide Yuuta. When he finally overcomes these barriers, he will become much stronger."_

~~~~~~~~~

"Deuce!" Fuji had just leveled the game.

~~~~~~~~~

_"Yuuta," __Fuji__ said softly, "you wanted a game. It wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't play seriously." He reached out to touch his younger brother's shoulder, but Yuuta flinched and shoved his hand away roughly. Undeterred, __Fuji_ continued: "You have improved since your game with Echizen. Your strokes are deeper and more powerful, and your stamina has increased as well! You are a very good player, Yuuta..."__

_"DON'T EVER COME AND LOOK FOR ME AGAIN. I want NOTHING to do with you." shouted Yuuta._

_Fuji__ cried silently in his head. Forgive me, Yuuta. I'm doing this for you. Love tennis wholeheartedly, accept the pain and the pleasure that comes with it. Then will you truly be strong! For you Yuuta! This is for you!_

~~~~~~~~~~

"Advantage Tezuka!" It was match point.

~~~~~~~~~~

_"I will never play tennis again." __Fuji__ plunged the blade into his hand..._

~~~~~~~~~~~

The tennis ball dropped and then reversed back towards the net. Zero-shiki drop shot. 

"Game, set and match! Tezuka wins, six games to love." 

Around Fuji, the spectators erupted into rambunctious cheers and began chattering simultaneously.

"Fuji-sempai! That was an amazing game! I can't believe you made Tezuka-buchou fight so hard!" Momoshiro pumped his fists in the air. "Amazing!"

"Nya! Fuji! I can't believe you can play that well with your left hand. Nya! This is so exciting!" Kikumaru was jumping up and down exuberantly.

"I don't know how you do it.  Just picking up a racket and playing with your weaker hand. But then you are the tennis tensai..." Kamio elbowed Shinji rudely in mid-mumble before speaking with admiration. "Inspiring play, Fuji. I wish more people could have watched this."

Izumi and Fukawa were shaking their heads in disbelief. "Does this mean Fuji is actually a nitoryuu? Seigaku is scary."

Echizen tugged his cap and smirked. "Hmmm! What else would you expect from Fuji-sempai?"

Amidst all this, Fuji stood rooted to the ground, silently staring at the open palm of his right hand.

"Fuji." Fuji jerked his head up at the sound of Tezuka's voice. He was standing behind the net, right hand extended for a handshake. Fuji extended his right hand in a similar gesture.

As Tezuka's firm, slightly callused fingers closed around his hand, time came to a standstill and the jabbering of the crowd receded into the background. Fuji and Tezuka stood across each other, joined by their hands, separated by the net, seeing only each other, hearing only each other.

"You have failed completely, Fuji Syusuke." Tezuka said suddenly, breaking the delicate trance that had enveloped them.

Stunned by Tezuka's harsh words, Fuji took a step back. "What?" His voice was a bare whisper.

Deliberately, Tezuka kept silent. With agonizing slowness, he turned Fuji's hand around until his palm was exposed to both their gazes. In a light, almost caressing motion, Tezuka moved his fingers to and fro across Fuji's palm, tracing the ridges of scarred flesh and tissue.   

"Did it hurt? When you plunged the knife into your hand, did it hurt?" Fuji flinched, but Tezuka continued softly as he gazed at the ruined hand. "It hurt didn't it? The pain must have been overwhelming. That's why you stabbed your hand repeatedly. You had to hurt yourself and make yourself bleed. You had to punish yourself because you felt guilty. Guilty because it wasn't you who was lying on the ground, injured and bleeding."

Fuji's eyes were wide and unblinking, but his hands started to tremble. As traces of blood drained from his face.

"But stabbing your hand wasn't enough, Fuji. You had to destroy it." Lifting his head, Tezuka's eyes bored into Fuji's. "That's why you broke your bones. You had to make sure that you could never pick up a racket with your right hand and play again."

Around Fuji and Tezuka, the group stood in horrified silence.  

"You were so thorough, Fuji." Tezuka's voice was intense. "So brutal. Because deep down, you knew the truth: if your hand were not completely destroyed, you would play tennis again. No matter how much guilt you felt, how much pain you endured, you would still pick up the racket and play again." Slowly, Tezuka placed Fuji's cold shaking hand onto the left of the tensai's chest.

"You couldn't reconcile one fact: that despite your love for Yuuta and despite all the tragic events that had transpired, you still loved tennis. That tennis was the sole thing that calls out to your soul and touches your heart. That's why you ruined your hand so completely. Not because you felt guilty for what happened to Yuuta, but because you felt guilty for still wanting to _PLAY_." 

Tezuka released Fuji's hand, but the tensai's hand remained frozen in place.

"You have failed completely, Fuji Syusuke." Tezuka pushed relentlessly, his voice pitiless. "You destroyed your right hand, Fuji. But you couldn't destroy your tennis. Because you love the game, up till the last breath you take, your heart will still beat for tennis."

*******************

The ringing sound in Fuji's ears was replaced by a keening wail. Only Fuji was unaware that the sound came from himself. 

_Kwring!!!_ Suddenly everything shattered. The mask that Fuji showed to the world, the walls barricading his heart, everything shattered into a million pieces. As the last fragment fell away, baring his soul to the whole world, Fuji started screaming. Piercingly. Heart-wrenchingly.

"Iie, iie!" Fingers digging into his head, Fuji collapsed onto his knees as he screamed again and again. 

The floodgates were finally opened: tides of sensations and emotions coursed fast and furious through Fuji, overwhelming him, drowning him in their intensity. 

"Iie! Iie, I can't take this...I can't take this." Hot tears poured from Fuji's eyes. He could not breathe. He felt as if he were being torn and ripped apart, and left thrashing on the ground. There was pain, so much pain. He tore desperately at his hair and his fingers clawed at his chest, but the excruciating pain that sank its teeth into him wouldn't let go. He started to shake convulsively, his teeth chattering as all warmth fled from his body.  

Then a pair of strong arms went around him, pulling him against a hard body, and holding him in a tight embrace.

"Mi...Mitsu." Fuji whispered, drawing in the familiar scent in shallow breaths and staring at the familiar face before tears blurred his vision and violent spasms wrecked through his body again.

Tightening his embrace, Tezuka gently pressed Fuji's tear-soaked face against his chest and placed his chin on the top of the weeping boy's head as he murmured softly, " I am here, Syusuke."     

"I'm...I'm so cold, Mitsu. I'm in so much pain...I can't take this. I can't take this pain." Fuji cried as he held on to Tezuka.

"It's alright, Syusuke. I am here with you." A trickle of hot tears escaped from Tezuka's eyes as he buried his face into Fuji's hair. "I understand everything. You are not alone anymore."

"You le...left  before."

"I'll never leave you again. I'll never let you go."  

Then Tezuka was tipping Fuji's face up and kissing him. 

Heat. There was so much heat as Tezuka kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. A cocoon of heat enveloped them as they desperately clung to each other, fingers threading through each other's hair, and hands running urgently across each other's skin. Fuji gasped as Tezuka's tongue flicked into his mouth. Fiercely their tongues dueled and entwined as they hungrily plundered each other's mouth; greedily they sucked and bit as they savored each other's taste...

Finally they stopped, forehead against forehead, hearts pounding like sledgehammers and gasping and panting for air. Fuji's palms were splayed on Tezuka's chest, while Tezuka's arms still circled him in a possessive embrace.       

Lightly touching Fuji's swollen lips with his fingers, Tezuka murmured. "Syusuke, are you still cold?"

The flush on Fuji's heated cheeks deepened as he shook his head weakly. A warm languor had settled over him, his bones felt as if they were made of water.  

Then realizing that he was practically sitting in Tezuka' lap, Fuji stiffened and said anxiously. "The others!"

Tezuka chuckled. "They have left quite some time ago." Tenderly stroking Fuji's face, Tezuka continued with amusement. "We'll have to thank Echizen for being so perceptive. He shepherded the entire gang out before we started kissing. If it were just Momoshiro and Eiji, they would have stayed and gawked."

Fuji laughed in agreement before his eyes became shadowed again.

"What's wrong, Syusuke?" Tezuka asked quietly. "You know it's not your fault that Yuuta got injured. It was purely an accident. If time could be turned back, would you have purposely lost against him? Would you have done anything different?"

Fuji smiled sadly as he shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have done anything different. I love him too much to ever lie to him like that." Fuji sighed softly. "I know it's not my fault, but I can't shake off this guilt. And the pain in my heart...it gnaws at me, and refuses to give me peace."

"Will you give me your full trust, Syusuke?" Tezuka covered Fuji's hands with his own. "Let me share your guilt and pain. Let me into your heart."

Tears tumbled down Fuji's face as he nodded wordlessly.

"You're crying again, Syusuke." 

"I'm crying because I'm happy, Mitsu. I..." Tezuka cut off Fuji's words as he covered the tensai's mouth with his own.

Tezuka's fingers slid under Fuji's shirt to explore the soft flesh, then he shifted his head and began to nibble at the sensitive skin of Fuji's neck. Fuji shifted restlessly, and they began to tug at each other's clothes.

"Mitsu..." Fuji moaned softly as Tezuka lowered him onto the tennis court. "I..." 

 "Shush Syusuke. Stop talking, just feel."  Saying this, Tezuka pressed their heated bodies together.

Fuji's fingers dug into Tezuka's shoulders as his cried out.

He could only feel. Pleasure, Fuji felt only pleasure. And Tezuka, Fuji felt Tezuka. Then Fuji's mind blanked out completely, and he no longer knew where pleasure started and where Tezuka ended, only that he and Tezuka were moving together as one.   

End Part II

 =============================================================== 

You've finished? Thank you so much for your patience! ^^ I hope you were not confused by the structure of the story which alternated between the present and the flashbacks repeatedly. And don't mind me shortening Kunimitsu to Mitsu— 4 syllable names are too much of a mouthful! (His name will have significance in the next chapter)

As for the tennis court action that does not involve tennis—LOL, my first time writing something like this, so if it's awkward, you'll just have to forgive me.

Please stay with this story as the next chapter will be the concluding one. ^^ Will Yuuta wake up? We know Fuji and Tezuka love tennis...but what about each other?

Thank you Wadeva, Suke-san, Hikaruchi, Chii-san, Re-chan, Cheeseburger of Doom and Shikki for your support and kind reviews!

Wadeva: ^^ I made you nervous? Why? LOL. Thank you for your always prompt reviews. *glomp!*

Suke-san: After so many chapters, I finally gave the rationale for Fuji's self-maiming here! I hope it's justified (you know how twisted Fuji can be...^^)

Hikaruchi: Thank you so much for your continued support. Your reviews really brighten up my days! ^^

Chii-san, Re-chan, Cheeseburger of Doom and Shikki: ^^ I have stopped torturing Fuji. He needs a break and some TLC from Tezuka. As for Yuuta, all I can say is that I am a nice person...LOL 


	7. Brother

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. I am just a fan obsessed with Fuji and Tezuka.

A/N: Gosh, it's been over a year, I wonder if anyone even remember that this fic exists or is even interested in it anymore? Although this is supposed to be the last chapter, as usual, I have too many things to write about so cough there will have to be a Chapter 8 after all.

Before the story, I'll like to thank the following reviewers who have been so kind and encouraging, and who always offer constructive comments and criticisms. Thank you for all your help and support: Mercury Angel II, Tora Macaw, loneranger, hakkai-san, Nekocin, Espy, blue , Ivory Fox, Mahon, kikumarustarr, Suke-san, chii-san , wadeva , hikaruchi, ruri, Ryomasamafan, AndyJune, tezuka eiri, and last but certainly not the least, Cheeseburger of Doom

* * *

Fuji smiled as he watched the crust of the pie turned a golden hue and the delicious aroma of warmed spiced apples and cinnamon wafted from the oven. Humming tunelessly, he gathered the pots and pans and filled the sink with running water. Contrary to popular misperception: one which he had never bothered to correct and had in fact gleefully encouraged, Fuji Syusuke was an excellent cook.

Given his friends' morbid fascination with, and macabre speculations about his taste-buds and cooking skills, Fuji did not quite have the heart to shatter their rabid fantasies. Not that Fuji did not enjoy watching his friends turned green and squirmed with trepidation whenever he downed another glass of Inui's juice or readily demolished a plate of wasabe sushi: he did have a sadistic streak after all.

Chuckling huskily, Fuji remembered the first time he had made Tezuka tried his cooking. Though Tezuka's face had been expressionless, the set of his shoulders had been a tad too stiff for him to be nonchalant as he sat at the table; and only because he had been observing him so closely, Fuji noticed the slight hesitation before Tezuka placed the spoon of pudding into his mouth. Even now, Fuji remembered with mirth at the way Tezuka's brows had twitched in surprise when he realized that the pudding rivaled that of any chef's.

"I should have expected this," was Tezuka's sardonic response as Fuji broke into peals of delighted laughter.

Fuji frowned as he slowly dried the pans. Tezuka had not been himself for the past three months: he had never been the most verbose of people, but he had became withdrawn lately. As if to compensate for speaking less and for not answering the concerned questions that Fuji directed at him, Tezuka took every opportunity to touch and hold him.

The heated caresses, the bone-numbing kisses...they were like opium that drugged his senses. Which was why Fuji had not been able to question Tezuka about the shadow his eyes as they held each other every night. _Tonight_, Fuji told himself, _I will get the answers from him_.

At the sound of keys opening the door, Fuji broke out of his reverie. Quickly wiping his hands with his apron, he hurried towards the front door, "Tezuka, why are you back so early? Is something..."

Puzzlement turned to shock as he stared at the figure standing next to Tezuka.

"Aniki."

"Yuuta!" For a moment, he stood frozen as his eyes tried to reconcile what he was seeing. Then, he was running forward and enveloping his otouto in a bone-crushing hug. "I can't believe you've woken! I can't believe this," Fuji whispered as he wound his arms tightly against the warm body, feeling the steady and resounding beat of Yuuta's heart against his chest, and inhaling the familiar citrusy scent of Yuuta's favourite shampoo, "You're not a mirage...I am so happy. God, I am so happy."

Loosening his grip on his otouto, Fuji smiled as words tumbled out of his mouth, "When did you wake up? You should have waited in Tokyo, I would have flown back immediately to see you! I can't believe nee-san and kaa-san didn't mention a word of this to me! You shouldn't have flown here! You should be recuperating!"

"Three months ago."

"What?" Fuji stared at his otouto in confusion.

"I woke up three months ago." Yuuta's voice was steady as he continued, "I recovered pretty quickly and returned home two weeks after I woke up from my coma."

"Three months ago." Fuji's hands dropped to his sides as understanding dawned. Staring at Tezuka, Fuji was expressionless, but his voice had turned brittle, "You knew this."

"Yes." Tezuka's face was a mirror of Fuji's.

There was a silence as Tezuka watched Fuji's eyes turned into shards of ice. Ignoring the painful constriction in his chest, Tezuka forced himself to speak, " I'll leave you both to have a good talk." With a polite bow, he left his apartment.

"Yuuta, you must be thirsty, I'll make you some tea." Fuji turned towards the kitchen. Hastily, he tried to fill the teapot with hot water that he had boiled earlier, but his hands were so unsteady from trembling that the water sloshed all over the counter. Muttering a curse, Fuji clenched the counter tightly in a bid to stop his shaking.

"Aniki." Yuuta was standing beside him.

Staring at the woodgrains of the wet counter, his hands still gripping the surface, Fuji said quietly, "Do you really hate me that much, Yuuta?"

Yuuta didn't reply, instead he reached out to cover Fuji's right hand with his own. Startled, Fuji looked at his otouto.

"I want to see your hand, Aniki." For a moment, his grip tightened before his fingers finally loosened to allow Yuuta to flip his palm over.

For a long while, Yuuta stared at Fuji's hand. The swellings and discoloration were finally gone, only a mass of healed flesh and ridges of raised tissue remained. The scars had finally healed, but they still bore a brutal testament to the injury inflicted: there was not a shadow of the elegant and sensitive fingers that Fuji once possessed.

"Does it still hurt?" Yuuta asked softly.

"Sometimes, especially when the weather changes." Fuji's voice was a matter of fact. "But the pain doesn't really bother me, I have grown accustomed to it."

"Can you still play?" Yuuta's voice was low.

"Yes, though not with this hand anymore. I can use it for day to day activities, but using it to play tennis the way I used to is impossible and far too dangerous." Fuji smiled, "I have been discovering the virtues of using my left hand..." His voice trailed off when he realized that the hand holding his was shaking, "Yuuta..."

"My God...I'm a great otouto aren't I?" Yuuta laughed mirthlessly, "An absolute peach. First class. Grade A."

"Yuuta..."

"How can you even stand to be in the same room as I am?" Yuuta demanded as he let go of Fuji's hand, his voice agitated. "After all that I've done. After all the cold shoulders and abuses that I had thrown at you. After what happened to your hand!"

"What happened to my hand is not your fault." Fuji replied evenly, "If you feel even an ounce of guilt, or think that I am bitter about anything, perish the thought."

"How can I?" There was disbelief in Yuuta's voice. "How many times have I stood by while people like Mizuki-san taunted you? How many times have I rejected you and your help?" His voice broke as he laughed weakly, "How many times have I hurt you? I think I have lost count."

"Yuuta..." Fuji reached out to comfort Yuuta, but the latter flinched and stepped backward.

"Don't touch me." Yuuta whispered, "Tell me the truth, Aniki. I have hurt you, haven't I? I have made you suffer."

"Yes."

"But don't you blame me for anything?"

"No."

"Why, Aniki?"

"Because you are my otouto, Yuuta. Because I am your Aniki." Fuji continued softly, "Because I love you."

Yuuta sank to his knees.

"Yuuta! What's wrong? Are you alright?" Fuji kneeled beside Yuuta, staring at his bowed head.

"I have been a coward, Aniki." Yuuta lifted his face. For the first time, Fuji could see the unshed tears shimmering in his eyes, "I've been lying to myself for my entire life."

End Chapter 7.

* * *

Perhaps this is short, I apologise for the length. Part of the reason I took so long is because writing about the relationship between Yuuta and Fuji does not come easily to me...LOL. Next chapter (the last) – What happened when Yuuta woke up? Will Yuuta and Fuji resolve their issues? And what about our favourite buchou, Tezuka? Plus, Mizuki makes a special appearance. (Ha, ha..that twerp.) ) 


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